


Four Choices

by RAW_SYNTH3TICA



Category: The Lone Ranger (2013)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Male Slash, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 06:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAW_SYNTH3TICA/pseuds/RAW_SYNTH3TICA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unable to cope being without his friend, John has a vision where he is presented with a choice:<br/>Either be with Tonto or forget him forever.<br/>Follow up to 'The True Meaning of 'Friend''</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Choices

**Author's Note:**

> ALL IS FICTIONAL & NOT MINE.  
> enjoy~!

“How’ve you come to find us, John?” Rebecca asked, her eyes alight and wonder just as expectantly pouncing on the few words John suddenly had to offer during their brief hello, she settled into her seat as the table before them was served up a platter of beef cutlets, potatoes and a pitcher of warm milk, “I expect them people wouldn’t let you leave even if you wanted.” 

“Which explains my lack of understanding this place if Tonto was the one to lead me here,” John crookedly smiled though half willingly since he was still at a loss of understanding How he had offended his friend in the first place, he murmured a quick ‘thank you’ to one of the farm hands as she poured him a glass of whiskey which he could not find the stomach in him to swallow, he instead smoothed out the cloth napkin over his lap and took up his silverware in hand, “I guess he wanted me to get reacquainted with my past.” 

“Of course he would, you’re not one of them,” Rebecca only smiled around her dainty bit of cutlet, their eyes made brief contact before John made such a painful-looking grin which instantly caused the whole jolly affair to sour and become all the more uncomfortable, she concluded, “It’s a sad truth, John, but we’ll never have anything in common except for the land we live on.” 

If John were saying he had never been hurt by Tonto, he would be lying, the first time he met his friend his head was bruised then like a plum growing outwards from his forehead between his brows, now he was trying his hardest not to massage his chest for the ache he found there hiding, the seed Tonto planted there now dying from a starvation he knew was one made by love. A kind so pure and seemingly able to withstand anything if only they did not part, was now withering, he could feel the roots crumbling inside his bones, the buds which had yet to flower already curling into themselves and freezing in the unfruitful autumn with unripe discontent. He felt as if he were being studied by the people he once knew, Danny himself found it hard to ask his uncle questions about the tribe next door, about how it felt to kill a man, about why John looked so sad while glancing to the sand dunes and about where his trusty riding partner went. The boy went about quietly chewing and sipping his milk, his gaze shooting to his abruptly stiff mother and his hound dog-faced uncle cheerlessly picking and gobbling the food. 

“The natives are nothing at all like the way we heard them to be, Rebecca,” John attempted to smile, only wavering slightly as the last touch of Tonto he remembered was on in farewell, “I have in fact been treated well while resting in their camp. They are wonderfully equipped and knowledgeable of this land we’ve come to call the ‘Wild West’.” 

“Absolutely, though it’s an equally wonderful change from all the smoke and noise back east. I miss it sometimes,” Rebecca nodded, though trying her best to sway the subject from a topic she was quite foreign to, she sipped her hot tea, “Don’t you, John?” 

“I can’t remember how the east was from time to time,” he shrugged, again trying not to recall the hurt flash across Tonto’s face before melting into the coldest stare he had ever received from him not since he screwed up apprehending Cavendish, he stabbed into the meat and took a mouthful, “Maybe it was ‘civilized’.” 

“It’s probably all that trail dust clogging up your better judgment. Besides, this place is full of liars willing to spin a good tale for the few listening ears,” Rebecca was none the less a little disturbed, but more than happy to serve her homed love at the sight of his returned appetite, “More potatoes?” 

He finished his meal with a side of a full stomach and heartburn from eating so quickly, saying goodnight to Rebecca was more or less familial without feeling in the deep kiss bestowed unto her. Unable to sleep properly in a bed, John carried a blanket and pillow out unto the porch to watch the full moon rise from the east, the moon Deity floated from her home and flashed her white buffalo robes as she sought out her husband the Sun Deity, unable to find her only equal love, she sat amidst the clouds and comforting stars as she wept tears which were made into shooting stars. 

John had a dream that very night, he was wandering a path with no goal, no sun shone a light nor gave him a direction for which to follow, he felt as if he had walked for hours by the pain in his legs and thighs, soon he felt parched, almost dried out to exhaustion. Far away and quickly approaching, came illuminating the dark a faint light, as if it were only a candle fighting against a wind alone, John’s legs would not stop moving long enough for him to think if the place he was heading near was safe or even Not a trick his mind was playing on him. His fingers swept along a solid object, the source warm, soft and tight, just below near the height of his waist lay a movable cloth-like hide, he peeled the skin aside and crawled into the teepee’s entrance. Before him sat Tonto, the man’s hands in continuous motion of combing out his long hair with a wooden comb which John had given to him as a gift after complaining of the hair tangling in his suit while riding, but there was something also amiss: a trail led from Tonto’s eyes to his chin which then in turn dripped unto his ever-moving hands. 

John tried to make sense of everything he was seeing, he had never knew Tonto possessed more than the stoic face he always wore, only once in a great while seeing the man smile was like an eclipse every four years, and suddenly as if being revealed the secret of longevity, he felt the slap of pity leaving a bruise across his pride’s cheek. Movement caught his notice as he watched a tear form, the liquid growing at the base of Tonto’s eyelash, and slowly riding across the high cheekbones unto the tightly-clamped chin, the minute flash as the tear caught light from the fire only made the ranger more curious of what secrets those unwanted tears contained, and like a knife upon flesh, John felt the sharp edge of each tear bite into him. 

The first vision to assault him was a night five days after their agreed partnership: 

They walked for a while tracking Butch Cavendish in the red sands and spackling of tall yellow scrub blooming tiny white flowers, they had been on foot for hours while Tonto urged John to ride behind instead of poking around the sand and being led astray by the simple rabbit prints, or the slithering four-legged stride of a rock lizard, or the dust-laden stomping of a herd of the unseen mustang herd, and a few crooked loping prints of downed drunks. John found and interesting trail once, watching the trail wind and cut in graceful indents before he could ask Tonto what they were, he heard and felt it: a rattling followed by the fiery twin sting of teeth to his upper shin and one to his right hand, he fell before the hissing could subside and lost consciousness. Yet the vision kept going, as if he were watching a silent film in school or witnessing a picture come to life - Tonto picked up the diamond back by the tail, and he also spoke perfectly! 

“Why did you have to go and do that, little nephew?” Tonto picked up the snake by the cusp between rattling tail and belly skin, his voice sounded strained, strange to John’s ears and urgent, “He is a friend!” 

“White Men came and killed all my daughters, my sons, my wife and parents! And for what, for the plain clothes We Snake-People wear!” the snake transformed into a man being held by the wrist by Tonto, he was tall and dark-skinned, his long hair plaited with wide leather strips to make the illusion of diamonds being printed down his back, his face smooth and serpentine-like, his clothing made of scales all the while he gripping two white daggers dripping something foul, “If they wanted to wear it, we would give it!” 

“Little nephew,” Tonto knelt down to John’s splayed body, he smoothed back the damp hair and explained warmly, his brown eyes not once moving from the downed ranger, “-he is different. Spirit Walker is my only hope for making right what was wrong, he knows my ways, he understands me like no other - even that of my own kin.” 

“Ay, you’ve given him a name,” the Snake-Man slapped his own head, he then untied the rattling pouch hanging at his lower back and reached in, he placed the contents in Tonto’s hand and instructed, “Take my magic and heal him, give him a sign of protection after you are done and my kin shall never harm him again.” 

“Thank you, little nephew,” Tonto shifted the contents in his open hand revealing white liquid which hardened in the sunlight into four white crystals, and a silver arrowhead engraved with the sign of the Snake-People, Tonto closed his eyes for a moment, then prophesized, “In four days, you shall meet a beautiful snake-maiden named Coiled-Skin Girl. Keep her safe and she will give you many more children.” 

“Farewell, uncle. Thank you,” the Snake-Man gripped Tonto’s shoulder in farewell as he nodded good naturedly to the ranger still on the ground, “Tell the idiot to keep his nose out of dens; he is very noisy.” 

“Don’t forget ‘Curious’ like all men’s nature,” Tonto shouted to the running figure who then crouched down low and dove into the sand, leaving behind a long slithering trail in the brush and sand. 

“Like all men!” the snake hissed back. 

Tonto took no mind of the stars rising from the east and the sun falling behind the canyons in the west, he rolled up John’s pants leg, and put his lips to the bruised flesh turning a sickly shade of reddish-black, John’s head rolled from side to side as the pain gripped his mind one last time and left in a burning pulse. Tonto spat out the poison which glittered and shined under the starlight, he sat back on his hunches to regain his breath but gulped in air as he gently took John’s right hand, he glanced to the ranger to see if he was watching, yet quickly caught his bearings on the dreadfulness of the situation, he lightly placed his lips on the flesh between John’s thumb knuckle and index finger knuckle, he sucked in a strong rhythm to draw out the spreading venom, until his mouth was full of the bitter stuff, he spat only to look upon John’s face and see a pair of blue eyes watching him. The tracker at first wriggled his nose and peered into the unmoving blue eyes trained solely on him, he kneeled in closer until they were both nearly nose to nose, and John blinked. 

Tonto grabbed the nearest thankfully thin rock and cracked it on John’s head, he instantly balled up his fists and hissed at John’s knocked-out self, “You see what you do to me!” 

John grabbed his forehead with both hands as he fell on his rump and a curse back inside the teepee. Inside the warmth of the place he stayed, a woman entered behind him and spoke to Tonto as if they both could not see John sitting near the fire, she was the tribeswoman whom fed the pair and had smiled hellos whenever seeing the pair together: 

“Where is he?” she looked around behind her two white braids to the hide-walled teepee as if she were to find whom she was looking for behind a mysterious fold. 

“Where is who?” Tonto shifted uncomfortably, his steady motions of brushing the long black hair surrounding him becoming more of a caterpillar inching down a mountain. 

“Of all the years feeding you, Wild-One, Man-of-the-Water-Place, I see you Alas with someone you love,” the woman came into the teepee with her iron pot of stewed meats and the small bundle to berry cake and acorn bread, she easily took her fire stick and arranged a neat set of coals until she could set the pot atop the hot surface, her voice was whittled but clear, “He makes you smile. Spirit-Walker makes you laugh like you had when you were a child.” 

“All children grow up sometime, especially one in his thirty-fourth spring,” the tracker placed his head in his hands and shut his eyes to the tribeswoman’s kindness which only served to usher out more unwanted tears. 

“Oh, young Wild-One, if you live to see me at my age, you’ll learn that not all White-People are bad, not all life is meant to last,” she limped slowly around the fire, she sat atop the bundle of John’s mattress and blankets, her hand slowly stroking Tonto’s head as it came to rest on her knee. 

“Is it why being apart from him hurts so much?” his voice was low, cracking, broken and fighting to steady itself. John’s shock became anger at himself. 

“I will not lie when I say it is the worst pain of all,” she quietly reminded Tonto, “Remember, my child: remember the times he had brought you so much happiness…” 

A second vision came to John, the teepee became distant, almost as if it were a toy placed behind a dune: 

“These. For food,” Tonto lifted up an intact thorny branch displaying the round red berries, they were both crouched side by side behind the berry bush as he continued to explain in his own broken English, “Better in the summer.” 

The land once parched had just drank up her thirsty fill of her season’s first monsoon, and for the faithful people’s efforts in her, she provided a bountiful game of deer, plump hares, wild chicken and fattened mountain sheep. Since then, Tonto had decided to teach John in the ways of his tribe, or firstly ‘how to survive with nothing’, which was seeming to go swimmingly until the tracker began ‘Shushing’ John’s every question and comment, it somehow felt connected to something John could not understand. 

“Are you sure the pine tea won’t give me an upset stomach-?” John asked before being again shushed, but John standing apart from himself had Heard what it was that Tonto was hearing all this time. 

He took off his hat and listened to the whisper in the trees: ‘Don’t they look the pair!’, ‘I see Wild-One blushing!’, ‘Look at them! Look at them!’, ‘My, my!’, ‘Wild-One and Spirit-Walker sitting in a tree-!’ 

There was a flutter and a crack as the voices disappeared, John looked across from him to see Tonto smirking at the many winged birds take flight, a bird dove in and whistled into Tonto’s ear: ‘Kiss him, you idiot!’ 

Tonto growled, just then the songbirds settled back into the shading cottonwood tree leaning over the two and then came more whistling voices twittering to one another: ‘You’re going to regret Not doing anything!’, ‘Don’t they just look twitter-painted?’, ‘Oh, the way they sit so Close!’, ‘Off your butt and into his Arms!’, ‘Hurry up before I steal him myself!’, ‘Oh, the clueless fools-!’ 

John squinted into the sunlight, and saw maidens with long hair and dressed in brightly woven skirts giggling to each other, their loud whispering voices muted by the passing breeze, he then looked at Tonto’s head only to see an old man dressed in black robes sitting on Tonto’s shoulders and shouting at the girls, “Shut up, you hags! Can’t you see he’s trying his Best!” 

Tonto then reached into his leather bag and sprinkled seed into the old man’s pointed mouth, which he noisily gobbled and coughed, “Just you wait! Just you silly girls wait - he’ll have this White fool yet-!” 

The combination of wording and watching John’s dream-self taking the first sip of bitter pine needle tea, Tonto fell unto his back laughing, his smile so wide and stomach so full of joyful sounds that John wondered if he would ever see the man’s stoic face again, not that he cared to welcome it back so soon. 

“Do you enjoy these visions?” the voice so distinctly his partner’s rang behind him, John spun about to be met with the handsome unpainted face of Tonto, “They are my most precious memories, Spirit-Walker.” 

John’s mouth fell open, he asked Tonto, “Why was that the only time I have ever seen you so truly happy, Tonto?” 

“If you knew my heart better then I did, you would know of what I truly considered the state of ‘Happiness’, Spirit-Walker,” Tonto smiled shyly, almost sadly as he led the way to the darkest corner of the setting, the sands became a blackness, the tree shrunk into nothingness as did the mesas, Tonto gently took both of John’s hands into his own and spoke clearly, “You truly are - Different. Not many people come to this place and can say much to another Spirit-Walker like yourself.” 

They had both come to a place, stars dotting the sky all around except for four places and the glittering bridge upon which both John and Tonto stood. 

“Do you see behind me to the west?” Tonto asked, glancing behind him to the teepee below the seated Moon Deity weeping shooting stars. 

“Yes,” John nodded in remembered sadness. 

“It is my home. Our home if you decide to follow me,” Tonto brought up the clasped hands to his chin and felt the warmth with his cheekbones and explained of the lights and towering buildings illuminated by the Sun Deity whom glanced around for his Moon-Bride, “Behind you is New York, a place you may go back to.” 

“To our left is Red’s where you will spend forever regretting everything you have done, and you will die there a sorry drunk,” Tonto said, they both looked down from the bridge to the lantern-like glow, songs jangling as did the wild moaning of both sexes, they glanced down the other side of the bridge to the other side, “To our right-” 

“Rebecca,” John answered, the image of Rebecca sleeping alone as a soft glow of moonlight lit her face softly, her inner voice whispering to him in her sleep: ‘John…John…John…’ 

“You will live out your days as happy as you can be, she will give you ten children,” Tonto explained as he lent his power of foresight to transform the present to the bright future, John sat surrounded by many children while the many bodies pranced around himself and the smiling wife and mother Rebecca; the setting remained the same, yet the time appeared into the far future: John lay in his deathbed, his beard long and surrounded by all his grown children and their own numerous children, “You will grow old and die in your great-grandchildren’s arms.” 

“I cannot promise you anything, John Reid Spirit-Walker,” Tonto looked up at John; the scene again changing into a vision of the possible: Tonto being thrown into the streets from establishments, his people being treated unjustly, “For I am a child to this land, I will always be seen as an animal.” 

“For I am seen as an animal, I will never be civilized or an equal,” Tonto directed their gazes to a vision of the Comanche people being put into tiny jails made up of land, and another vision of them both fighting hand to hand seemingly to the death, “For I stick with my choice, I may not always see eye to eye with you.” 

Again all visions reverted to the peace of the stars for one more truth was made clear, John saw only two graves deep inside a canyon and beneath those graves lay two men embracing for eternity as if in an eternally tranquil dream, “For I am a man, I will not bear you children.” 

“Yet because you love me, it is all I can promise to love you in return if not equally, then more than you,” Tonto said calmly, his hands clasping John’s one final time before he let go and proceeded to walk down the starry bridge westward back to the teepee they had once shared, he looked back and waved, his hands flat and closed atop one another as he closed them over his chest, one hand leaving his body as the other lay at his side, he swept the hand to John. 

The sign language meaning more to John than he could ever force himself to care for. 

“I love you, Wild-One!” John threw his hands skyward to shake the stars from sleep and shouted to the world as the sun began creeping over to the west, the Sun Deity alas coming to his bride the Moon Deity, taking her cold hands in his hot ones, they met for a kiss which turned the world black and lit up the sky in the fires of their eternal love. 

John awoke with a start, he sat up on his hunches and glanced up vaguely at the eclipse burning like a black sun in the heavens. He saddled up Silver and rode to the one place he decided to call home.

**Author's Note:**

> :3


End file.
